e kitchen, which Mrs. Paine had given him,
as he shiveringly made his preparations for leaving, he heard a
strange voice in the other room, a girl's voice, cheery, pleasant.

"I just came in to see how you are, Mrs. Paine. No thank you, I won't
put the team in the stable--I ran them into the shed. I am on my way
home from driving the children to school. Some storm, wasn't it? The
snow is ribbed like a washboard, but it is hard enough to carry the
horses."

Peter came out, with his coat and his hat in his hand, and was
introduced. His first thought was one of extreme mortification--three
days' beard was on his face. His toilet activities had been limited
in number. He knew he felt wretched, seedy, groggy--and looked it.
Something in Pearl's manner re-assured him.

"Going to town?" said she kindly, "rather too far for you to walk when
you are feeling tough. Come home with me if you are not in a hurry,
and I will drive you in this afternoon."

Peter accepted gladly.

He hardly looked at her, holding to some faint hope that if he did
not look at her she would not be able to see him either, and at this
moment Peter's one desire was not to be seen, at least by this girl.

In a man's coonskin coat she stood at the door, with her face rosy
with the cold. She brought an element of hope and youth, a new
spirit of adventure into the drab room, with its sodden, commonplace
dreariness. Peter's spirits began to rise.

Outside the dogs began to bark, and a cutter went quickly past the
window.

Mrs. Paine, looking out, gave a cry of alarm.

"Wait, Pearl! Oh, don't go!" she cried, "stay with me. It's the man
who is going to buy the farm. He said he was coming, but I didn't
believe him;" her hands were locking and unlocking.

Without a word, Pearl slipped off her coat and waited. She seemed
to know the whole situation, and instinctively Peter began to feel
easier. There was something about this handsome girl, with the
firmly-set and dimpled chin, which gave him confidence.

In a few moments Sylvester Paine and his caller came in from the
barn. Pearl stood beside Mrs. Paine, protectingly. Her face had grown
serious; she knew the fight was on.

Sylvester Paine nodded to her curtly, and introduced his guest to
every one at once.

"This is Mr. Gilchrist," he said, "and now we'll get to business. Get
the deeds." he said, to his wife shortly.

Mrs. Paine went upstairs.

"Who did you say the young lady is," asked Mr. Gilchri